


The Pip

by Helen8462



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Humor, Prompt Fic, mystery solved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/pseuds/Helen8462
Summary: Captain Janeway loses something and she just can't let it go.Written for the Prixin Prompt Comp 2017





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set the day of 7x10 – Shattered.
> 
> Prompt Used:  
> #1 – “I can’t tell you.” “Why not?” “Temporal Prime Directive.” Explain how Janeway knows where Chakotay keeps his Antarian Cider.
> 
> I went with a more playful Janeway than usual. I believe her inner monologue is probably serious most of the time, but then again, maybe not. Also, I lose stuff constantly and it irritates me to no end. I think that if Janeway lost something important it would drive her bonkers too.

Fifty six.  Fifty seven.  Fifty eight.  Turbolift.

So, it’s still fifty-eight steps to the bridge from my quarters.  Two thousand plus days and that number hasn’t changed.  At least I’m consistent.  Oh look, it’s Tuvok and Harry and Chakotay.  Good to see they all made it back from lunch.  Time to get on with…

“Captain, may I speak with you?” I hear Tuvok say as I pass his station. 

I give him the customary head swing, indicating for him to follow me to my ready room.  He’s on my heels and the door closes behind us.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask, rounding my desk.  I’m secretly hoping he has something interesting to share, things have been dull around here lately.

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t bring to your attention, Captain, that you are missing a pip.”

My hand goes to my collar.  One. Two. Three.  Hmm….  

“Well, it seems I am,” I reply.  “Thank you Tuvok.  Your attention to detail, as always, is much appreciated.”

“Captain,” he replies with a slight bow and then he takes his leave.

Outside of Starfleet it’s a little known fact that each officer gets only one set of pips and that they are microscopically marked to the bearer.  I try not to think about why it’s necessary, but I know I’ve identified more than one set of remains using them. 

Pips are obviously little and they fall off from time to time, but generally the magnetic buggers stay in place.  As it is, I’m really not sure where mine went.  It’s strange, after all of these years and all of the battles and away missions I’ve never lost one I couldn’t find again quickly.  Oh well.  Maybe it will turn up.

“Computer, replicate one solid pip.  Authorization Janeway pi omega, recipient Kathryn Janeway.” In a moment a new little dot appears on the replicator pad. 

Now it’s time to get down to business.  Whoo… that’s a big stack of PADD’s.  Didn’t I do anything this morning?  I’m getting a headache just looking at the pile.

Let’s see.  I need to sign these crew evaluations.  How many are there?  Fifteen!  Dang.  How long have I been putting this off?  Oh, here’s the warp core efficiency report I asked B’Elanna for – B’Elanna doesn’t have pips.  I bet the provisional rank-bars don’t come off as easily.  Where did I lose that thing?

I find that my eyes have left the PADD and are scanning the room as if my insignia is going to walk in through the door.

Right, warp core efficiency reports.  Looks like engineering has been doing well with the new batch of dilithium - I’ve had those same four pips since we left Earth.  Dammit.  This is going to bother me all day. 

Okay.  Report, then I’ll check a couple of places it might have fallen off, but if I don’t find it quickly I’m going to let it go.

Warp core.  Last three months have been well within tolerance - maybe it’s in Astrometrics.  I was in the lab right before lunch.  Actually, I was a lot of places today.

Ugh.

* * *

I’ve made the command decision that the most efficient course of action would be to retrace my steps.  I couldn’t have been missing the pip all that long, someone surely would have noticed.  But, would they have told me?  That, I’m not entirely sure about.  Tuvok obviously would, but he wasn’t on the bridge earlier in the day.

So, the last thing I did was fix the damn replicator in my quarters.  I’ll go back there.  Head nod to Chakotay.  You’re doing a fine job holding down that chair, Commander.  Really?  You noticed I was only in my ready room for eight minutes? 

Turbolift doors closing now.  I will not get down on my hands and knees in the search for this pip.  I absolutely will not.  It’s not in here anyway, that would have been too easy. 

Thirty eight, thirty nine.  “Hello Ensign,” I say to Lang who is looking at me like there might be something wrong but she’s too afraid to ask.  What?  You’ve never seen the Captain walking around looking at the floor before?  I’m being pensive, carry on.

Fifty seven, fifty eight.  Quarters.  And now I have a kink in my neck. 

Okay.  I tried to have lunch but the replicator gave me cold soup, so I took it apart and….. I took it apart.  And I bet my pip ended up inside.  I’m going to have to disassemble the whole thing again, aren’t I?  It figures, because it’s working after my repair and that pip is probably the reason why.

Come on toolbox.  You know the drill.

* * *

Half an hour later I’ve realized that the pip is not inside my replicator, which is now in a heap on the floor for the second time in as many hours.  I really can’t stand the thought of reassembling it, but I’ll have to before Chakotay comes over for dinner tonight. 

I stand up and dust myself off.  Where was I before this debacle?

I had to go to the cargo bay to get parts for the replicator.  Oh, but on my way back Seven called me to Astrometrics. 

“Computer, is anyone in Astrometrics?” 

 _~Affirmative.  Seven of Nine is in Astrometrics._ ~

Great.  And she’ll be there all night if I know her.  I’ll ask her for more information on that nebula we’re approaching and take a casual glance around.  If I find it, then I find it.  If not, then back to the bridge.  I have real work to do today, after all.

I’m getting better at walking down the hallway and not looking like I’ve got some kind of muscle spasm going on.  My eyes are focused about two meters ahead and sweeping back and forth.  Back and forth.  Back and….  I almost just hit the wall. 

“Captain,” Seven says in her normal unimpressed tone as I enter the lab.

“Hello Seven, I’m here to see if you have any more data on that nebula we were talking about.”

She’s raised an eyebrow at me.  “The one we discussed less than three hours ago?”

“Yes.”

“No Captain, as I advised you earlier I will have a full report for you by 0800 tomorrow.”

I nod and smile.  “Yes, you did.  Well then, carry on.” 

She returns to her computer console but I don’t leave.  Instead, I’m doing kind of a tip-toe duck walk, head low, trying to look for anything….  Wait.  What’s that?  Something shiny is right under that console in the corner.  I wasn’t over there earlier, but maybe it rolled. 

Seven is still occupied, though I know she knows I haven’t left.  Just a quick peek.  

“Captain?” she asks and I can feel her ocular implant boring through me as she catches me examining the darkness under this desk.  Dead end, the shiny thing was a bolt.

I clear my throat. 

“Yes?”  I ask, as if what I’m doing is perfectly normal. 

“You appear to be looking for something.”

The Borg are so perceptive.  “I lost a pip Seven, and I’m trying to find it.”

“You appear to be wearing the appropriate quantity of rank insignia, Captain,” she replies.

This is the part that’s going to make me sound crazy.  I won’t admit to being superstitious about this, but there is a reason for my unlikely obsession. 

“I am Seven, but it’s not the same.”  And now she’s glaring at me.  “You see, the pip I lost was one of the original four I had when we started this mission.  You could say, it has sentimental value.”

Seven nods.  I can tell she’s restraining herself from telling me how irrelevant emotional attachment is, but regardless she joins me in the search.  She quickly reports that there are no traces of gold alloy present on the floor.

“Thanks Seven, I appreciate the help,” I say, and in truth she did save me some time.  Would it be a misuse of resources to bring her on this hunt of mine?

“Might I suggest you use a tricorder?” she says holding one out to me.  Actually, that’s not a bad idea. 

“Thanks,” I say, taking the device from her hand. Then, in a fantastic ‘duh’ moment, I realize that I didn’t have to take my replicator apart again after all.

I set the instrument to scan for ferrous-gold compounds and I’m on my way once more.  I should go back to the bridge and forget this nonsense.  But to the business of being sentimental, I have a strong feeling the pip I lost was the one that Admiral Paris pinned on me when I became a Captain. 

Then I think, I should run a carbon-dating analysis and see how old they are.  Oh, then I could wear them in the right order and….  Now I’ve lost my mind right along with my pip.

* * *

I was in the cargo bay before Astrometrics.  This time I manage to traverse the corridors without bumping into anything or drawing any unwarranted glares.  It’s funny, I don’t usually pay attention to how the crew regard me when I’m travelling through the ship.  But today I’m oddly aware of every head nod, ‘Ma’am’ and ‘Captain’ as I pass by.  This must be what paranoia feels like.

I was in two different cargo containers looking for spare parts.  It’s immediately obvious they’re not where I left them.  Shit.  Someone rearranged things in here.  Neelix must have been doing inventory again.  So I’m walking down the rows of containers trying to figure out where he hid the thermolitic regulators.  All these bins look the same.  Tricorder time. 

Scanning, I make my way down the first long row.  Borg components, gravity plating, emergency rations, alcohol.  Alcohol?  I stop and take a couple steps back. My tricorder beeps again.  Alcohol in glass containers.  I open the lid. 

“So that’s where he keeps it,” I mumble.  Then, I put the top back on Chakotay’s mini-bar and I’m scanning again. 

About twenty minutes later I’ve found the containers of replicator bits.  Power cells, inductors, regulators and control panels.  No pips. 

“Well, crud,” escapes my tongue and I sit down on the last bin in the row.  My head is starting to hurt.  I really have to stop the madness now.  Bridge, Kathryn.  Go back to work and forget this.

* * *

Fifteen crew evaluations stare me in the face.  I’m glad we do this on a rolling basis, but with a hundred-forty plus subordinates I’ve got one to review about every other day.  Chakotay must get really sick of it too.  Maybe we should do them just once a year.  Oh, that’d be a shitty week.

“Computer, coffee black.”

Ah….that’s better.  Ok.  We’re at the D’s.  Delaney, Delaney, Dell, Doctor, Dorado.  I wonder how Dorado is doing with his transfer to Engineering.  Engineering.  I was there before the cargo bay.

I’ll review the D’s and then I’ll go back to Engineering.  That’s a good compromise.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.  Yup, the D’s all look good.  Sign off on these, swig of coffee and I’m on my way again.

That’s right Chakotay, another eight minutes in my ready room. 

I cannot come back to the bridge and leave again without spending at least an hour.

* * *

Engineering.  I was there briefly and only in B’Elanna’s office. 

“Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres,” I ask as I walk, hoping that she’s away from her post.

 _~Lieutenant Torres is in Jefferies Tube fifteen, section beta._ ~

Thank heaven for small miracles.  Oh, and thank heavens I wasn’t in the Jefferies tubes today.  I’d probably throw in the towel at chasing a pip through those.  Who am I kidding?  I’d be on my hands and knees searching the length and breadth of them too.

I gain little attention in engineering other than the usual pleasantries.  Although I’m sure that Carey was wondering what exactly I was doing when he found me squatting under B’Elanna’s desk.   No pip.  Big surprise.

I was on the bridge, in my chair before engineering.  That’s exactly where I’m going and I’m going to stay there this time.  I’m ordering myself to drop this.

* * *

“Are you alright Kathryn?” Chakotay asks me quietly, leaning across the center console.  Can’t he tell I’m trying to brood in peace?

“Yes, why Commander?” I respond.  The combination of my glare and the use of his title should quiet him up nicely.

“No reason,” he says, and goes back to his reading. 

I redirect my scowl to the view screen.  Lots of stars.  They’re mesmerizing.  I know each is gigantic, but from these distances they’re all just little points of pip.  Dammit. 

So many stars.  We’ve been a lot of places out here, but we’d never make it to each of those systems, not in a universe of lifetimes.  No human has ever laid eyes on these stars before and may not again for a very long time.  It’s inspirational and daunting at the same - I feel something under my….

“Ahem.”  I clear my throat involuntarily.  Then I shift in my seat ever so slightly and take peek at the cushion.  Nothing there.  As if I could feel it, if it were.  What is this anyway, Princess and the Pea?

But you know, maybe it’s on the other side.  Shifting slightly, cross the other leg now.  And sneak a peek…  Nope.  I should have remembered to look before I sat down.

Stars on the screen.  Think about all of the planets around those stars and moons around the planets.  The billions of individuals that live out there - all the interesting cultures.  This the reason Starfleet explores, the reason I’m a captain.  The reason Owen Paris pinned that goddamned freaking pip on my collar.  I’m pretty sure I just growled because Chakotay is looking at me again.

Who am I kidding?  Crap, the bridge is boring today.  How does Chakotay stand it?  He sits here every Alpha shift for hours at a time.  Maybe he’d like to join my hunt, it certainly is more exciting than this.

And my foot is bobbing up and down.  The doctor might be right, I may drink too much coffee.  I can’t sit here anymore.  All these little flying pips on the screen just taunting me.  I think six years in the Delta quadrant has finally made me crack.

I’m going back to my ready room.  Yes.  I have more crew evaluations to read.  I have a whole damn ship to take care of and I’m acting like an obsessed child.  But, when I stand up, I’m just going to take a little glance at the chair.  No one will notice, just a quick little….

“Captain?” Chakotay asks again.  And I realize during my ‘quick glance’ I had bent all the way down and was halfway under my seat.  Time to fire off another glare.  Direct hit.  Evasive pattern beta-six into my room.

* * *

This time I’ve actually managed to get about a half-hour of real work done before I realize that I’m quite hungry and tired of being in this room.  I think I’ll go pay a visit to Neelix, he’s always a good distraction. 

I was in the mess hall early this morning but I refuse - I absolutely refuse - to take the tricorder with me and look like a lunatic while I scan around the crew.  Besides, there will be too many pips in there anyway.  

Oh, but the mess will be empty in the middle of the night.  No, Kathryn.  You won’t go wandering the ship with a tricorder at 0200 hours.  Then I shake my head because I refuse to admit that it’s exactly what I’m going to end up doing. 

I also refuse to go past the bridge crew again - not that it’s any of their damn business when I come and go - but I have an image to maintain and being a pacing fool on a boring day is not part of aforementioned image.  So I’m taking the back way.  Through the conference room, down the hallway and into the rear entrance of the turbolift. 

In my attempt at a covert escape, I neglect to realize that Alpha shift has just ended.  When the lift turns, it fills with everyone from the bridge. 

Sigh. 

* * *

Onward to the mess hall.  I hope Neelix has something good for a snack, all of this insanity is making me hungry. 

The doors open and it’s immediately clear that something odd is going on in here.  It’s strangely quiet for fifteen or so people, and now I see what they’re looking at.  Chell.

The Bolian is making a scene – not a rare occurrence - and Neelix is trying to calm him down.  Good ‘ol Neelix.  Let’s see if my presence does anything to diffuse whatever this is.

“I…. I’m so sorry Chell,” Neelix says as I walk over to them.  “I don’t know what could have possibly been in the stew that would break your tooth.  Please, let me take you to sickbay.”

 _Oh. Shit._  

The stew. 

Neelix had me stirring that stew this morning while he brewed my pot of coffee.  It was steaming hot and I went to wipe a bit of sweat from my neck and I can all but hear my pip plopping into the murky brown gravy-covered chunks.

Neelix has his hand on Chell’s shoulder now and I’m wondering if the blue man might rip the Talaxian’s appendage right out of its socket.  Time to step in.

“I’ll escort Mr. Chell to sickbay, Neelix,” I say, taking the irate crewman by the arm.  If looks could kill, Neelix would be the next meal served in here. 

* * *

I arrive in sickbay with a slightly less agitated blue person who now has blood running down his chin.  He’s been silent the whole way.  That tooth must really hurt. 

“Well, what have we here?” the Doctor asks.

“Neelix is trying to kill us,” Chell replies, careful of moving his jaw too much.

Time to shoot a look that says ‘stop acting like a child.’  “Mr. Chell broke a tooth,” I explain.

“What did you bite into?” the Doctor asks, opening Chell’s mouth.  I’m suddenly hoping no one took the time to figure that part out.  Guilty as I feel, I may not be up to confessing my role just yet.

“I don’t know,” Chell says, mumbling with the Doc’s hand in his mouth.  After the exam he finishes the thought, “It was really hard, felt like metal.  I swallowed it.”

“No matter,” the Doctor says, grabbing for his tools.  “Just a small molar fracture.  I’ll have you fixed in a jiffy.”  He motions for Chell to open up again.  “And I expect you’ll have your mystery object back in about eight days.”

Yeah.

You know what?  This new pip will be fine.  I don’t need that old one back. 

Not. At. All.

* * *

Several hours later - hours that include me failing to repair my replicator, a strange experience on the bridge and a burnt-out deflector dish - I find myself on my couch trying to get answers to questions that I’m not supposed to ask. 

“How do you know that’s where I keep it?” he asks me with a curious expression.

Well Chakotay, you see, I’m crazy.  And I went on a ridiculous scavenger hunt and I stumbled upon your stash in the cargo bay.  

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

Because I have an image to maintain. 

“Temporal Prime Directive,” I lie with a smirk.

He’s laughing and I’m laughing and I think I might be just a bit drunk.  But after the day I’ve had….

“You know, that’s interesting,” he says.  “Because there’s another little mystery going on, and I’m wondering if time travel might be involved.”

“Oh?”

Chakotay’s reaching in his pocket.  “I found this.”  He’s holding something small out for me to see.

Oh my stars.  He has a pip and it must be mine.  Please, don’t tell me he got it back from Chell.  But then, if he didn’t get it from Chell, what was in that stew…?

“I’ve been looking for that all day.  Where did you find it?” I reach out, but he quickly closes his hand and takes it from within my grasp.  And now he’s smiling at me.  It’s a really dirty smile too, the kind that sends shivers down my spine and into my more delicate areas. 

“When I went back to my quarters, to replicate our dinner, I noticed that things weren’t how I left them this afternoon.” 

Where is he going with this?

“This,” he says, wagging his fist at me, “was in my bed.”

I can feel my mouth gape open.  “How did that get…?”

Chakotay just shrugged at me and now he’s leaning in close.  “Tell me, Kathryn.  In your recent experience, temporal or otherwise, were you _in_ my bed?”

“No!  Of course not!” 

I’m blushing now, I can feel it all over. He looks momentarily hurt, or possibly amused, at my impassioned denial.  It's not that I haven't thought about being in his bed, mind you.  But I don't exactly break in to take a nap from time to time.  I have to tell the truth, I realize. 

“I didn’t have a temporal experience, at least not one I can remember.  I found your cider when I was looking for replicator parts.”  And then the thought occurs to me.  “Are you sure it’s mine?”

He’s smiling at me again with those dimples.  “Yes, I checked.  And no, I have no idea how it got there.  But it makes sense that no matter the timeline, any pip in my bed would have to be from you.”

My lip is starting to hurt because I’m biting it so hard.  “Anything from _your_ time travelling you’d like to tell me now?” I ask.

“Only that I met a younger version of you,” he says, then he finishes the cider from his glass.

“Oh?”

“We didn’t end up in my bed, if that’s your next question.”

“Good to know.”

“I had to tell her that there were some barriers we never cross.”

“Right.”

“But apparently that was a lie.”

“Hmm….”

“Or it’s going to be.”

His hand is holding the pip out again, it’s pinched between his thumb and forefinger.  He’s taunting me, I realize.  I take the newest addition from my collar and drop it with a clink into his empty glass. 

He’s leaning to pin the old one on me - so close I can feel his exhale on my neck.  I think he might be putting it on with his teeth.

“What were we saying about there being a part of your life you know nothing about?”  I whisper with baited breath before he pulls away.

“That it sounds like the future.”

I turn my face slowly to his, our lips are dangerously close.  “Interesting.” 

He nods, and I see he’s no longer smiling.

The attraction between us is an unstoppable force by now.  The magnetism is so powerful, that I realize my pips won’t be the only thing I will lose in his bed tonight.

 

* * *

**_Reviews inspire and are always appreciated._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Please also read "The Gift" by MiaCooper and "Woman in Want of a Pip" by CarlynRoth. Both ladies took up the mystery I created and ran like heck with it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Woman In Want of a Pip](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554638) by [carlynroth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlynroth/pseuds/carlynroth)




End file.
